


Five Days Standing

by Omlyt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Jean, Chubby Jean Kirstein, Engineer Marco, Jean is a dork, M/M, Mutual Pining, Trans Jean, asexual jean, jean may be kinda really OOC, oh dear gods this is going to be cute, too many as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omlyt/pseuds/Omlyt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is a huge dork and doesn't know how to really get to know Marco, the engineer major that's modeling for his art project. And Marco is kind of interested in the cute artist with the amazing sketchbook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh fuck, the model is cute

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! Just wanted to let you know that the POVs will change and will be marked at the beginning of each chapter. It will go between Jean and Marco. Thanks for checking out my fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Painting was supposed to be a way to relieve stress. Painting was supposed to be a way for me to just walk away from life for a little while. Painting was supposed to be the means in which I exist. 

But this damn empty canvas was doing the opposite of all of that. My fingers twitched with the need to pick up a paintbrush, mix some paint: SOMETHING- anything but just stare at this blank space like I was going to barf art onto it. My mind was just as blank as the damn thing and I couldn’t figure it out. 

Frustration bubbled in my gut and irritation frothed in my head. I picked up the canvas and threw it off to the side, finally doing what I had been thinking about doing since I first thought about painting today. It landed up against the door, now hanging off of the doorknob. 

“You okay, Jean?” A warm voice asked from the other side of the room. I only groaned in response, trudging over to the canvas I abused. “You should probably just go do some sketches outside for now. I know you came in determined today and you’ve got the studio all day, so…” I finally turned to the owner of the other voice and sighed. 

“But that requires putting on a jacket and grabbing a bunch of other stuff.” I whined, dragging my feet back to my easel. “Armin, you should come with me.” I put the canvas back where it belonged and grabbed my bag, moving as sluggishly as I possibly could. 

“I will, but only if you buy lunch. And we’ve got to be back before one thirty; the model for the live study project is coming in then and I’ve got to set up the stage.” Armin set aside his palette and put his paint covered fists on his hips as he studied his work. 

“Sounds like a plan. Titan Café?” The little café had a nice window seat where two could sit comfortably and we seemed to frequent the spot all too often. A tinge of pink dusted Armin’s cheeks, and he nodded. My little blond friend had a crush on an asshole that worked the cash register, and even though I hated the guy, Armin seemed to enjoy his company. There was even a time where he came down for his break early just to talk to Armin. While the gesture was sweet, I still couldn’t help but hate the guy. It must’ve been his eyebrows that pissed me off.

With a little more spring to my step, I swung my bag over my shoulder and started out the door, leading the way to Titan Café. The walk was short, but Armin was quite the social butterfly and was stopped often by his classmates. Connie, Sasha, and so many others- They’d all greet him with a smile and they’d ask about some assignment. He’d nod and respond as needed. None of them acknowledged me, and I was totally okay with that. 

We had one more person following us into the café, chatting away quietly with Armin. The blond went on ahead to get in the line after I handed him some money, so that he could have a moment with the asshole at the counter. I went ahead and sat down in the window seat, spreading my legs out across it lazily. 

The café was pleasantly small, but all of the natural light made it feel rather open. With at least 10 relatively large windows spanning the space, it was really well lit. And the sun never seemed to shine directly though the windows, so customers wouldn’t be blinded. At noon, it was somewhat busy. They had at least 15 people sitting around at the tables or couches, either reading books or mindlessly sipping at their coffee. One in particular stood out: some guy sprawled out across one of the couches scrolling though his phone as he ate some pastry that I had once seen in the glass display at the counter. 

Armin bid his friend goodbye after reaching the counter, and he stood at the counter for a moment before the shaggy haired kid came by. Both of them wore a big smile, and Armin’s cheeks seemed to light up as he continued to speak. I watched them for only a moment, noticing just how much more attention the barista was paying to the blond than any other person who was in that line. After seeing Armin laugh, I turned away and started digging around in my bag, searching for a small sketchbook. The guy on the couch had an interesting posture and I figured I’d doodle something real quick. 

His arm was raised just slightly above his head in such a way that if he dropped his phone, it would land right on top of his nose. His other hand was resting on his chest, right next to the light pink icing covered pastry. His head was just slightly propped up, and I could barely get that onto paper, as it was so minute a curve to his neck. His body was relaxed, but the stiffness in his stomach was off. I stared for a little bit too long, but was finally distracted from the sight by Armin coming towards me. 

I looked up from my paper one last time to get one more glimpse of the guy, but I then set my sketchbook aside in hopes of food. Armin dashed these hopes, but made up for it by bringing me a cup of iced chai. 

“Eren is going to bring our food out on his break.” He explained. “He told me about this sandwich he made that wasn’t on the menu, so it’ll take a moment.” He sat down on the edge of the window seat and looked down at my sketchbook. “That’s a fantastic figure.” He said quietly, an attempt to change the topic. 

“His name is Eren?” I asked. What a stupid name for a stupid guy. 

“Yeah. Eren Jaeger. Turns out he goes to the college that our art institute is attached to. Kinda crazy, isn’t it?” He leaned back, mildly defeated. He kept glancing over at the counter, where Eren was replaced by a pretty girl with dark hair and a weirdly intense face for such soft features. I tore my eyes away from her to glance back at Armin. 

“So when are you going to get his number? You two have been flirting every damn time we come in here.” His hair almost hit my face as he spun his head to look at me. His eyes went wild and wide and I couldn’t help but laugh at the desperate expression. 

“Jean! Oh my goodness, how could you say such a thing? I mean…” He looked down, a small smile on his lips. “I was going to ask for it before we left today. I don’t know, I just kinda want to hang out with him a little more.”

“You sly dog.” I chuckled, nudging him with the toe of my shoe. He just blushed even harder and didn’t bother to look up at me. “Since when have you been so smooth? I’m surprised he isn’t just tripping over himself to get your attention- Oh wait. He is.” He rolled his eyes as I scooped my sketchbook back into my lap, readying my pencil to continue the sketch. 

“Is it that guy on the couch?” I glanced up at Armin for a moment and nodded. He reached his hand out and I handed the book to him, and he compared the real thing to my drawing. “Good job on getting the relaxed posture down. His neck is just slightly off. You might want to try referencing the arm of the couch to get it down a little better.” He passed the book back to me and I merely nodded in response. Armin always knew what was off, and where I needed help. While sometimes he would give advice at the wrong time, he generally gave it in such a way where it seemed much less like a critique and more like a mere suggestion. I always liked that about him. 

“I just hope he doesn’t move.” I looked up at the blond and smiled, getting a chuckle in response. It was a slight inside joke between us that I wasn’t a particularly fast sketcher. No matter how quickly I tried to complete the sketch, it would turn out looking too scratchy and almost too hard to make out. 

I continued my work and finally got Armin’s approval on the curve on the guy’s neck. I had just gotten to fleshing out his legs when he shifted slightly, making his shirt ride up slightly. My eyes squinted in irritation, but continued to work, watching the way his muscles seemed to dance when he moved in any way. It almost seemed as if he was getting restless: glancing at his watch and sometimes digging in his pocket for something. 

“You look like a stalker with the way you keep staring at that guy.” A new voice drew me from my concentration, causing me to turn my head suddenly. “I mean, drawing someone without their permission? Really creepy.” The shaggy haired asshole stood next to the window seat, almost standing too close to Armin for my own comfort. 

“Not quite as creepy as hitting on one of your customers.” I muttered back, taking the wrapped sandwich that Armin was holding out to me. It was warm and smelled utterly fantastic, but its creator still irritated the hell out of me.

“At least I talk to Armin.” Eren was cut off from saying anything else by Armin asking about what classes he was taking. 

With the discussion elsewhere now and the attention off of me, I opened the sandwich wearily, checking to see if there was anything weird on it. Other than avocados and a strange looking yellow sauce, it was deemed okay, and I proceeded to eat it while trying to draw. When I looked back up after taking the first bite, I found that the guy on the couch was sitting up and dusting his shirt off. I cursed quietly, only getting a glance of concern from the duo sitting next to me and desperately tried to fill in the rest of the drawing based on some awkward estimations of what his body looked like. Once I got to the face, he was already standing and he shot a glance in my direction. 

I didn’t notice he had freckles before. Or that he was extremely aesthetically pleasing. He had a chiseled jaw line like that of a classical Greek statue, and beautifully sculpted cheekbones. His eyes were dark, but they held a certain charm to them. It was just like watching a fully recovered statue living and breathing and I could swear I was looking at a god. 

If I wasn’t gaping before, I was now. And staring like some fool. I could hear Eren make another dumb comment about how I was staring, but I didn’t hear it. The guy suddenly made eye contact with me and smiled awkwardly and I desperately tried hiding behind my sketchbook. Lucky me, I fumbled with it and actually ended up holding the side I had drawn him on towards him and when I noticed, I just about died inside. 

“Oh my fucking God, this guy is a dweeb.” Eren sighed. Armin was practically holding back giggles and I was panicking like a dumbass. The guy’s eyes had lit up when he saw the drawing and he started coming over. I flipped the sketchbook over, closed it and resisted the urge to throw it at Eren and run as fast and far I could from this place.

I always seemed to have some sort of issue communicating with people I found extraordinarily gorgeous. Last time, I couldn’t make eye contact, the time before that, I simply ignored them, and before that? Stammered like some idiot. I just couldn’t talk to people to save my life, and honestly, I was generally okay with it, until they started talking to me. 

“Oh, um, hi!” Oh shit, the guy had a really nice voice. “I’m sorry, I usually don’t approach strangers, but I saw the thing you were drawing and… was that me? I couldn’t really get a good look and I-“ I interrupted him with a croaked noise and I finally looked up. Shit, shit, SHIT. Why the hell could I not speak like a normal person? Why do I make inhuman noises when a really nice looking person comes up to talk to me? 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Armin finally burst out laughing as hard as he could. He saved me from speaking, distracting the guy away from my flustered squawking. I always seemed to fuck things up when it came to talking to really good looking people. My mind seemed to go completely blank when the guy smiled nervously. 

“You… You can look at it. I’m not a creep, I swear, you… you just had a weird posture and I wanted to draw it.” I held out the sketchbook, finally finding words. 

“No, I’m totally flattered actually. I usually model for art classes, but I’ve never been drawn outside of a studio.” He took the book and flipped though it quickly, getting to the page with the sketch of him. His eyes grew wide and his smile wider. “Wow.” He said after a moment. I would have thought it was a bad ‘wow’ had the expression on his face not changed. He seemed completely amazed and it only made me feel like a giant dork. My art wasn’t deserving of the way he reverently held my sketchbook or the way he seemed totally stunned by a simple sketch. 

“I’m not quite that good, but if you want the page…” I had to stop biting on the inside of my cheek, the nervous habit making me sound and possibly look like a dork. Armin sometimes said I acted like a jerk and others have used the term “arrogant asshole” to describe me, but the way I was acting now seemed to totally contradict that. 

“You don’t have to do that. It’s a good drawing, and you shouldn’t take it from your book.” His smile seemed to get even brighter, and he handed it back to me. His happiness was contagious, but it was disturbed by a comment from Eren. 

“Hey, Marco, you’ve got a job in a little while, don’t you?” The shaggy haired guy asked. His name was Marco: a cute name to go with a cuter face. Goodness. 

“Yeah, I really should get going. Thanks for letting me see your work. Maybe if we run into each other again, you could show me more?” Marco let me respond with a nod and he bid us goodbye before going out the door. Once he was out of sight and totally not out of mind, I buried my face into my hands and started laughing. 

“Holy shit, horse face, that was so smooth.” Eren said after a moment. He seemed extremely disappointed by my ability to make men swoon. However, the terrible nickname got on my nerves a little more than usual. Armin hit him lightly, though, making it a little okay for me. Armin always knew when to stick up for me, even if he was still laughing at me. 

“Shut the fuck up, okay?” I mumbled into my hands. My heart was beating a million miles an hour and my mind was just stuck on that weird noise I made, playing the scene over and over again in my mind, like a broken record. If my face got any hotter, it would melt off of my face. “I think I should get back to the studio. Armin, I’ll go ahead and set up the stage, you can stay.” I started packing up, wrapping my sandwich and got up, quickly shuffling out of the café as fast as I could. 

Getting back to the studio was a quick adventure, as I usually took the back ways to get there when I went alone. Going through the abandoned stairway that always smelled distinctly of weed cut off about 3 minutes of walking, and led to the room that was right across the hallway from the studio. Even with the shortcut, I still took my time to try to shake this awkwardness. 

Once inside the creative sanctuary, I pressed my back against the door and slid down to sit. Letting out the loudest groan I could, I fell over to lie on my side. How the actual fuck could I have acted like that? I mean, I could have probably tried a little harder on putting together words, but no! I had to act like a creep. 

But if earlier was an embarrassment, what was about to happen was so much worse. 

“Woah, are you- Hey you’re that guy from the café!” I felt my blood run cold. Just what I needed: The hot guy being our model. 

I forced myself up to my feet and I tried to make eye contact with him, although totally not succeeding. “Guess you got your wish of meeting again much sooner than you thought.” I spat out the words nervously, each one running into the one after it like a train crashing to an ultimate stop. However, this worked in my favor as Marco actually found what I said to be funny. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m Marco, by the way. I’m here to model for a live drawing project. Am I in the wrong studio? If I am, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just barge in like I did…” He shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked rather sheepish. 

If my face wasn’t melting, my heart was.

Oh, fuck, the model is hot. 

“No, no…” I reached up and ran a hand through my hair, sighing. “You’re in the right place. I’m sorry I’m so awkward. Just give me a moment to set up the stage and I’ll let Armin know that you’re here.” How words were able to flow so easily for me at the moment made no sense. I should have just barfed all of that nonsense out, but it actually came out in a clear coherent sentence! Color me impressed. 

“Oh, awesome! Can I hang out here until he comes?” He asked, following me as I started towards my easel to move it to face the center of the room. I threw a nod in his direction after putting my bag down and I could hear him shuffle about, probably snooping. 

“So, Professor Hanji just said that it was a live pose study. They really weren’t specific as to if I was to be nude or dressed, or posed with a prop or anything. Care to fill me in?” While Marco had gotten to the end of his question, I was still stuck on the idea of him being nude. I prayed to every god I could think of, hoping that the answer was yes to that, because I would totally not mind seeing him without clothes. 

I mean, I like the idea of naked people- I draw them all the time- but I am not being sarcastic when I say that I’m not really sexually interested in anyone. I just have huge interest in the aesthetic of the human body. While I do appreciate a good butt, boob or dick, I am more of an “admire from afar while trying to figure out how to draw a butt/boob/dick” kind of person. Some call it asexuality, and I’ve been under such label since my senior year of high school. 

“Uh, no. But Armin should be here soon- he knows the answers. While you’re waiting, you can flip though my sketchbook. If you still want to, I mean. There are drawings of dicks in there, just to warn you in advance.” Well then, my foot made a sudden introduction of my mouth and I braced myself for any response I could have gotten. 

All I got was a tell-tale chuckle and a shrug in reply, and the sound of him swinging his arms around. I bent over and pulled my sketchbook out of my bag and held it out for him to take. 

“Live study dicks or…?” 

“You’re a model for an art school. You should know the answer and if you don’t it’s both. Dicks are fun to draw.” My foot was so far shoved into my mouth; I could feel it starting to go down my throat. Way to go, me. You know just how to make a situation even more awkward than it could ever be. 

“To each their own.” Marco had his lips pressed together, almost as if he was trying to hold back laughter. He took the sketchbook anyway and walked it over to a seat near the door. As he flipped through my embarrassments, unfinished works, sketches and other shit, I went ahead and pulled the round short stage to the middle of the room, where all of the light of the studio seemed to be the brightest. I adjusted the legs slightly, twisting at knobs mindlessly. With everything in place, I then went to go pull the easels to face the center. Marco had only looked up a few times, seemingly content with just looking through my sketchbook. He probably didn’t want to accidently grab something wrong, or fuck something up. Neither did I, but at least I knew my way around the equipment. 

“Hey, I never got your name.” Marco’s voice broke the silence. At that moment, I realized that I hadn’t bothered to introduce myself yet. Perhaps I didn’t want to give him a name to match with the bumbling fool I was acting like. 

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Jean Kirstein, I’m a sophomore in Trost U.’s fine arts program.” Was the formal introduction necessary? 

“I’m Marco Bodt, arts model extraordinaire and engineering major here too.” He flashed me a smile. It took an incredibly high SAT score, references and impressive resume to be enrolled in Trost University’s engineering program. Although it was the second time he introduced himself in a matter of minutes, I genuinely didn’t mind. 

Damn. Stunning and incredibly intelligent? Does this man have no flaws other than introducing himself twice? Possibly, but I really didn’t care at the time.

My silent admiration was abruptly interrupted by the vibrating in my pocket. Upon checking it, Armin walked in, tapping away at his phone. 

“Oh! You must be Armin.” Marco said, seeming excited. 

“Yes, I am-“ Armin went to his easel, and then finally looked at Marco, a bit surprised. “Oh my goodness, you’re that guy from the café.” His eyes flew to the sketchbook and then over at me. After assessing my emotional state, he looked back at Marco. “You must be Marco. Thank you so much for agreeing to work with us.” He smiled and started pulling some of his supplies out of his bag.

“It’s my pleasure! I’ve been doing nothing but homework lately, so when I got the call to come out, I was really excited. I wanted to ask, though, if there was anything specifically that you wanted me to do for your assignment. When your professor made the arrangement, they weren’t specific.”

Armin set his bag down on one of the two stools in front of his easel and nodded. “Well, it is our first individual project. We’re supposed to do 10 charcoal drawings and 2 paintings. Are you comfortable posing nude?” The question made my heart stop. 

Marco nodded and shrugged. “I suspected that I would be doing so. How much time will you need for each pose?”  
“Between 40-60 minutes for the charcoal drawings, and we’ll need multiple sessions for the paintings. I believe Hanji arranged 5 sessions with you, spanning this week?” Armin crossed his arms and leaned against his stool comfortably. 

“Yeah, about 3 or 4 hours each. I can stay for a couple of extra hours today, Wednesday and Friday, but the other two days, I have to dash to get to my afternoon classes.” Marco ran a hand through his hair and then glanced over at me, and then back at Armin. “You two must be pretty talented if your professor is willing to hire a model just for you. I mean, just looking at Jean’s sketchbook has me really impressed.” 

I busied myself with moving the things around on my easel, trying to hide the blush in my face. Was it a good impressed or bad impressed? But if it was used in conjunction with “pretty talented…” My thoughts were stopped when Armin spoke again. 

“Hanji seems to think that we’re their special projects. Jean and I used to have them as a teacher when they were teaching high school. I think it may be a bit of a favorites game.” Armin laughed and then turned to me. “Jean and I have to finish getting everything together to start the sketches, so if you want, you can go ahead and get ready to pose. Is that okay?”

“Yeah! Okay, and the bathroom is just down the hall, right? I’ve only been in this wing a couple of times, so I really don’t remember.” Marco turned for a moment, reaching back to grab my sketchbook. Armin answered with a nod as the darker haired man came to bring me my book. 

“You’re really good.” Marco said with a warm smile. My insides melted, and I couldn’t hide the blush anymore. I was suddenly very upset at myself for being such a loser when it came to interacting with extraordinarily beautiful people. “I really hope I can see more of your work as the week progresses.” 

I felt my heart stop and the blood rush to my cheeks. If I wasn’t already some ungodly shade of red, I was now. His lopsided smile and the clusters of freckles on his face, oh goodness, he was so unbearably cute. He was unbearably cute and he was complimenting my work. 

I knew that the admiration he had for my work wasn’t special to me, because he seemed like the type to act like that towards most of the artists he worked with. I had to make this assumption, forcing myself to try to swallow whatever feelings I had in that moment. It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell that I was totally interested in getting to know him, because if the way I was acting was any sort of cue it was probably one of the loudest ones.  
Drawing some person I’ve never met at a coffee shop was a common occurrence for me, but making eye contact was always an awkward situation. But making eye contact and getting something other than a disgusted expression in return was the most startling thing that possibly happened to me. 

“Earth to Jean.” 

“Hm?” I hummed, pulling my eyes away from the door Marco had left through to look over at Armin standing next to me. 

“You okay? You keep getting really flustered around him. While it is kinda cute, you’re going to need to cut it out when he poses for us.”

“I know…” I rubbed at my face, trying to gauge just how bad my blush was now. “Dammit, I’m so sorry for the way I have been acting. I can’t figure out how to be normal around him.” I heard my friend offer something akin to a chuckle, but it seemed to come out of his nose. 

“You don’t know him. For now, maybe you should really focus on that for now. And don’t go trying to make things up about him, either.” Armin turned back to his easel. 

“Armin, how do you always manage to read my mind?” I asked. Maybe splashing my face with cold water would snap me out of this? I proceeded to do so by going over to the sink where I usually wash out my brushes. 

“You wear your emotions on your sleeve. I wouldn’t be surprised if Marco wasn’t just trying to mess with you, with how obvious you’ve been.” For some reason, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Armin was right. Granted, he was always right, but in this one case, he seemed to be really right. 

I knew nothing about Marco and it was as simple as that. The only reason why I couldn’t talk to him properly was because he well fit my aesthetic. I loved the way he looked and I didn’t like him. Upon further consideration, I deemed myself an idiot for even thinking that I could possibly be on his level. All he said was that he liked my work, and that could very well be the only reason why he was talking to me. 

Of course it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that my professor assigned him to us for an assignment. Nope. In retrospect, this should have been a thought to have come up, but I was pretty concerned with trying to make myself not like him.

Easier thought than actually done.


	2. Early October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's not sure what he thinks of Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I really hope you like it! Please remember to leave comments and kudos! <3

The first thing that grabbed my attention was his hair. He had the weirdest undercut- blond on the top and dark brown on the bottom- and for some reason he made it look really nice. The second thing that grabbed my attention was the fact that he frantically tried to cover his face with his sketchbook.

 

If I hadn’t seen what he had drawn or if Eren wasn’t over there, I really wouldn’t of had come over to talk. I probably would have continued to admire from afar before going off to meet the guy for the first time, rather than the second time.

 

But Jean was an amazing artist.

 

Flipping through his sketchbook in the coffee shop only gave me a quick glimpse of the work he was capable of, but being able to sit and look at each piece in depth was just so incredibly intense. Jean had a way with lines and color that just absolutely captured my attention and I wasn’t sure how to convey my adoration for his work in a manner that wouldn’t fluster him as badly as he had been.

 

Every time he stared at his feet, or his face went red, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt that I caused him to feel upset. Did he not like my tone of voice? Did he not like the fact that a stranger asked to look through his sketchbook? Did he feel bad that he was caught sketching me? So many questions kept popping into my head and I just couldn’t figure out what had caused Jean to be upset.

 

My knowledge of the location of the bathroom had been correct, but I didn’t remember it smelling so intensely of paint. I ignored the smell as I shucked my clothes and put on the robe I had for this sort of work.

 

I used to be a model for a department store in my hometown as a teen, so when I switched to the art modeling guild, it was pretty easy. I’ve been comfortable with my body, so lying about naked, or posed awkwardly was okay with me. I started modeling for some of Trost University’s art classes a year ago and they keep calling me back. I personally think it’s a great way for me to earn money that doesn’t require me to think as much as I usually do. I stare at equations and diagrams all day, so being able to just stare out into space and relax has really been a nice change of pace.

 

I walked back to the studio and shut the door back behind me. Both Armin and Jean were sitting comfortably at their stools and they had already set up the stage with a mat and a stool beside the raised platform. When they heard the door click back into place, they turned to look back at me. Jean offered something like a grimace before looking at the floor and then back at his paper.

 

“So, how long can you hold a standing pose?” Armin asked, shifting slightly on his stool to comfortably look at me.

 

“About twenty minutes without it starting to get uncomfortable.” I started fiddling with the robe’s tie around my waist. Jean still didn’t look at me.

 

“Alright! Well, we’re ready to start when you are.” Armin offered a warm smile before turning back to his paper. At this, I walked up to the model stand and set my robe on the stool before stepping onto the stand.

 

“Can you set an alarm for thirty minutes?” I asked, and Armin quickly obliged.

  
And I took my pose and stood.

 

When I pose, my thoughts wander aimlessly. I don’t make eye contact with the artists, I don’t look at their work, I try not to move, and I do everything I can to do an interesting pose and still be comfortable. The rules were repeated over and over in my head, but I couldn’t help but keep shifting my eyes towards Jean. I was looking just right of him, so it was easy to steal the occasional glance at him.

 

He didn’t seem as flustered anymore; the blush in his face was mostly gone and he was really focused. When he was really concentrated on something, he would suck in his lips and sometimes bite on them. It seemed to be an unconscious thing, because after some time, he would reach up and pull his lip up and get a weird little irritated expression on his face. We only made eye contact once, but it was short and accidental. After that, I just stared at a spot on the wall. I couldn’t tell if it was paint, or a stain or some bug, but after it moved, I was sure it was a cockroach.

 

My mind drifted and after a few more minutes, my knees started to ache lightly. Only a few moments later did the alarm go off. Jean held his hand up for a brief moment and I didn’t move, letting him finished up just a few more details.

 

“Is a five minute break okay?” I asked, grabbing my robe. Armin nodded as he wiped his hands on his pants, leaving charcoal steaks in the fabric. I stepped off of the stand and sat on the stool after putting my robe on.

 

“Was it enough time for both of you to get it down, or should I resume the pose after the break?” Again, I fidgeted with the tie on my robe, but this time I only ran my thumb over the ridges of the thread in the hem at the end of it. I watched Jean look over his work, trying to determine if he needed any more details, but in the end he gave Armin a hopeless look.

 

“Would you be able to pose like that for another twenty minutes? You were kind of swaying earlier, so I got your legs in as soon as I could, but I didn’t do as much work on your torso and head as I would have liked.” Jean was still looking at his paper, but he finally looked up at me.

 

I was kind of taken aback by how well he spoke so suddenly. He seemed to have an issue trying to put a sentence together earlier, but now he seemed so sure in his words. For some extraordinarily weird reason, a small smile came to my lips and I nodded. Was I enthusiastic to get back into that pose? No.

 

But Jean needed some extra time, and we had it.

 

By the end of our time together, I was in a reclining pose. We had grabbed a few of the pillows that were stowed away in a closet somewhere and another mat and I just laid across the model stand with my hands over my head, legs twisted around each other, and my head laid back. I was on the verge of sleeping when the alarm went off, marking the end of the session.

 

“Oh goodness, we’ve kept you here an extra twenty minutes! I’m really sorry, I should have been keeping better track of the time.” Armin got up suddenly and started rummaging in a bag that had been long forgotten once we had started today’s session. “Can I give you a tip, Marco? I feel really bad about keeping you for so long, and you were absolutely fantastic today.”

 

“Don’t worry about it! I mean, if you want to tip me, I would certainly appreciate it,” I have to pay for my food somehow. “But I really don’t have plans today, so it really is fine that I stayed a little later.” I sat up and yawned, feeling my back pop back into place as I did so.

 

“A ten okay?” Armin pulled the corresponding bill from his wallet. Still sitting, I grabbed the robe from the stool next to me and pulled it on and he brought it to me. I smiled at him and nodded appreciatively.

 

“Thank you. Can I give both of you my card? That way you can reach me if you need anything.” I finally stood after getting a “yes” from the others, and went to my bag in the corner of the room, pulling my clothes out and a couple of my cards. Before going to the door, I dropped both of them in Armin’s hand.

 

As I was leaving, I heard the two start talking quietly, practically murmuring to each other. Once I was out of earshot, I sighed and scratched my fingers over my scalp. Even though I hadn’t completely fallen asleep earlier, I was still rather tired. After changing, the cold water from the sink did very little to wake me up, and I resolved this issue by making myself a promise to go get coffee after leaving.

 

I returned to find Armin and Jean laughing about something, but I didn’t ask what it was when I grabbed my bag. I looked up at some point and found Jean smiling. His lips were pulled back into a toothy grin that evolved only seconds later into a cocky smirk. It was almost cute, seeing this side of him so suddenly after getting the impression that he was a little more subdued and shy. Granted, I still didn’t know him and I could only think that I might be able to get more glimpses into his life as the week progressed.

 

I bid my goodbye quickly after getting my “proof of work” paper signed by Armin. Jean was still rather arrogant looking when I left, but he only gave me a quick wave as I slipped out the door. With my bag over my shoulder, I maneuvered my way around the art building and back out into the chilly fall weather.

 

I really enjoyed my work as a model and it is as simple as that. Dealing with the weird comments from the artists, the accidental eye contact or the terribly awkward interactions with the easily flustered artists who weren’t used to just seeing a naked body were easy tasks. I did the work because it gave me a chance to relax and to appeal to my sense of vanity. While I wasn’t vocal about feeling comfortable in my skin, I had it well internalized. I really liked seeing how others saw me, or seeing what they were really focused on in their works.

 

I very rarely interact with the artists, and when I do, it is a quick thing that I generally forget about later.

 

Then, why couldn’t I get Jean out of my head?

 

It was almost as if various clips of him were on constant repeat in my head: The awkward scrambling with his sketchbook in the café, the steady expression he had when he was finishing up his work and the cocky smile from right before I left. Each felt like four second clips and they just cycled through. Sure, it bothered me that a stranger was stuck in my head, but he had made such an impression on me.

 

Nonetheless, I had more to focus on; what was I going to do for the rest of the day? It was already past five, so I could go get dinner, but at the same time, I just wanted to sleep. By the time I finally decided on getting something to eat, I found myself in front of the Titan Café for the second time today, and went on in.

Eren was at the counter when I got up there, and he shot me a grin. “So what did Kirstein think of your dick?” He asked, punching in my usual dinner order into the cash register. I frowned at him and handed him a $5 bill, and didn’t give me my change back.

 

“How the hell did you know that I was working with them?” I asked, leaning over the counter slightly. There were only a few people in the café, and Eren’s shift was about to end.

 

“Armin texted me, actually. He was surprised that I knew you.” Eren turned to reach into the display cabinet behind him for a mug. “But then again, he was just as surprised that you and are in the same program. Said I didn’t strike him to be the type to fit in that crowd.”

 

“Well,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Jean and Armin are amazing artists. They rendered my dick on the page just fine.” Eren turned to me for a moment, an eyebrow raised and lips pursed. “I’m a nude art model, Eren. Don’t be jealous that Armin has already seen me naked. I’m just there to be naked, not steal your man.”

 

“We would all die if you and Armin got together.” Eren stuck his tongue out at me when he put the full mug of coffee down on the counter. “Not only would I kill you, but the two of you would pretty much just be the collision of total cuteness and kindness that the world would explode. And I have already called dibs.”

 

“You think I’m cute?” I asked. He laughed at my question, but nodded in response. “Anyway, Armin’s cool. I can see why you like him.” I pushed myself away from the counter, taking the water bottle in hand.

 

“It’s the Kirstein guy you need to keep your eye on- Hey, give me like, two minutes and I’ll come out with your food and we can sit and talk for a while. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” He started taking off his apron and hat, draping them over his bent arm. I nodded and went to go have a seat at a table.

 

Eren and I had grown up together, going to all of the same schools. It wasn’t until our junior year of high school when we really clicked though. I was his tutor for physics, and he really sucked at it. However, once he was tested for dyslexia and dyscalculia, things clicked: he got his numbers and occasional letters mixed up. After figuring out the best tactics for working with it, Eren’s grades in almost all subjects rose, and he graduated in the top ten of our class. He was still a bit of an asshole in personality, but he had his moments.

 

Eren came around the counter with food in hand, wearing the familiar jacket and beanie combination. He handed me a cup of soup and then sat down, relaxing into the chair easily.

 

“So, today’s been weird.” I muttered as I started to eat my soup. Eren laughed at this, shaking his head. “I mean, I met an artist before going to go pose for their project- and I met them in such a bizarre way.”

 

“We talking about horse face?” Eren asked. “I mean, awkward is his middle name, from what I’ve heard about from Armin. They’re in here a lot, but they’re really talented. Don’t tell him I said that, but the store manager actually bought a few pieces off of them and has them hanging up at his house. He’s been saying that maybe he’d commission them to do a piece for the café, but he’s been saving up the money for it.” He tipped his head back to glance at the ceiling. “Anyway, every time they come in, they’re always up to something. I’ve never liked how protective Kirstein is over Armin. I mean, Armin is his own person and allowed to do what he wants, right? Then why is Kirstein an ass about it? He always gets between me and Armin and all I wanna do is get to know him better.” Eren huffed, his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“That’s the only reason why you don’t like him?” I asked. I was halfway done with my soup.

 

“He criticized my cooking and is generally rude to me. I don’t like him, Marco, but if he’s your cup of tea, I’ll try to be nicer.” As he spoke, his lips twisted into a look of disgust, as if he really didn’t want to do as he was saying. I couldn’t help but smile some at this.

 

“I’m just kind of interested in him. I can’t help but feel like I’ve done something wrong though. Every time I’ve talked to him, he gets really flustered and looks at the floor a lot. Like, did I say something wrong?” I sighed and put my spoon down for a moment. “Seriously, I just can’t figure him out and feel bad for making him feel bad. Is that weird?”

 

“Holy shit, Marco, you might be the nicest guy I have ever met.” Eren cocked his head to the side, expression sitting at borderline incredulous. “You don’t have an interest in him, you’re just worried about him? And worried that you did something wrong?” He sucked on his teeth and sighed. “Wow, okay, I misjudged that entirely. I’ll do you a favor and ask Armin to see if Kirstein’s got an issue with you. Sound like a plan?”

 

“I really couldn’t ask you to do that.” Actually, I could. Maybe the sooner I could get this resolved, the sooner I could get Jean out of my head.

 

“Well you didn’t ask, did you?” Eren’s lips quirked into his signature toothy grin, probably the one that won Armin over. “I’ll text him now to ask. Don’t worry too much or you’ll start losing freckles.” He pulled out his phone.

 

“I will lose freckles if I worry?” I laughed at that. “Where did you hear that from?”

  
“I made it up. Needed to sound smart for a moment.” He shot a smirk at me once again before bringing his attention back to his text.

 

“You’ll need to tell me about you and Armin. I mean, I know about the number exchange, but how did you two even start talking?”

 

“He came up to the counter, I thought he was cute, I paid for his coffee, we talked again when he came back. Turns out we had a bit in common, despite his art major and we hit it off. Just gave him my number today, though. I think I’ll ask him out to a movie or something tomorrow.” He hit send and put his phone on the table, then dusted his hands off. “And the question is out: What did the ever-perfect Marco Bodt do to upset Jean Kirstien?”

 

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Hey, I forgot to ask- What professors do you have this semester? I’m used to having you in almost every class, like last semester.” I asked after picking my spoon up again. “I mean, I know you’ve got an interest in bio-engineering, but I didn’t think you could get into those classes until next semester.”

 

“I’ve got Levi and Erwin for a lot of my classes. They let me in early because I got a chance to talk to them over the summer. The physics professor that we had last semester recommended me for an early start and they have me come in for an interview. Kinda crazy, isn’t it? I finally get to learn from the pair that inspired me to get into the program! It’s really great to be able to, even if it for their basics classes. And the fact that they let me in early is insane! I mean, my grades were all that great last semester anyway.” His explanation had my mind swimming. It took almost too much work to get into the bio-engineering program and the fact that he got in early and only with an interview was an intense amount of amazing.

  
“You did some amazing work on that last project though. Everyone was absolutely floored by it.” He looked up at me, as if about to correct me. “It was really impressive. Only Levi could have been able to do the math like you did. You just took off with an idea and it was just scary how well you worked through it. And not to mention how fast because wow.” I said.

 

“The look on your face is very ‘proud parent’ like. I’ve come a long way from high school physics, haven’t I?”

 

“Wow,” I had to pause to laugh for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I was just thinking that I was very proud of you. You’ve gone from not being able to find something’s inertia to being able to get into the bio program without having to take those tests and do more than one interview. I haven’t heard of anyone doing anything like that in a really long time.” He smiled at me as I spoke. “And I’m not sure if you want to hear this… But I think your mom would be proud too.” The smile fell from his lips in an instant and he looked down at his lap.

  
“You really think so?” He asked quietly.

 

“Of course.” I nodded. His lips quirked up only slightly and he looked up at me though his bangs. He nodded back at me and then sighed.

 

His voice was almost so quiet that I almost didn’t hear him. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

 

“So,” I cleared my throat, “how’s Mikasa?” Eren shrugged at this, but finally lifted his head. “I know she works here in the mornings, but I never get a chance to talk to her. Last I heard, she was still going to Maria College for the nursing program over there.”

 

“She’s doing great, actually. She just graduated at the top of her class last semester. She didn’t walk though- she was hired by Survey like right off the bat- She still works here in the morning to keep an eye on me. I really think she should just quit working here and go to Survey though.  It’s a great opportunity for her and she seems to enjoy it.” Eren’s voice went softer after a moment. “We really haven’t talked lately. Ever since she started working there, she really hasn’t had a chance to call me as much as she used to. Maybe we should bring her dinner on one of our off days. I think she’d like that.”His lips stretched into a smile that lit up his entire face. “Holy shit, she would love Armin.” There was a sense of reverence in his tone, and I couldn’t help but find it totally adorable. “We should take him with us when we do that! Wow, they would get along so well. Do you think you could make some of that soup that she likes so much? And I’ll make those weird ass pastries that goes with it so well.”  

 

“She liked the cheeseburger paradise soup, right? Or was it the zuppa tuscana?”

 

“Udon, actually. I think. Not too sure. It was Japanese? Had noodles and meat and eggs?”

 

“Yup, udon. Just let me know when you want to bring it up to her because I have to go out and get some more of the spices.”

 

We talked for about another hour, going back and forth about all sorts of things. Once it started getting dark outside, Eren decided that it was time to head out and we both made our separate ways home.

 

The weather in early October was my favorite: The air always had a crisp feeling to it, the cool breezes were fantastic and it was that perfect temperature where all I would need was a light jacket. The best part, however, was the leaves.

 

At this time of year, the trees right in front of my apartment complex shed their leaves onto the ground mercilessly. These leaves would pile up, dry up and make the air smell like fall. I loved everything about the sight of them, the smell and the sound that they made when I stepped on them. It added to the feeling of the season and it was enough to ground me to this time.

 

Walking home any other time of the year is daunting. In the summer, it’s sweltering and I feel like I’m swimming in my own sweat. In the winter, I feel like I’m going to freeze to death. Both are unconditionally unpleasant. But autumn always has such an amazing feeling to it. I’m not focused on myself, but on my surroundings. I’m pulled out of my head and into the world around me and I feel like I can really enjoy things.

 

This strange euphoria lasts about a month and a half, and I intend on always enjoying it to the fullest. I slowed down, taking smaller strides and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. My eyes flew to the darkened sky and the tops of trees framing the view above me. I came to a stop.

 

It reminded me of something I had seen in Jean’s sketchbook.

 

The warm colors of the leaves mixed with the darkening sky as the sun set, each individual leaf on the spectrum between completely contrasting with the dark oranges and pinks of the clouds above, and perfectly matching them. I stood in complete awe as the sky changed colors. The framing trees, each leaf, the colors, the emotion: It all lead back to Jean.

 

I could feel my cheeks lighting up at this thought. How on Earth could this one guy be so stuck in my head?


End file.
